


is this how you'll remember me?

by purplefennels7



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 15:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8253659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplefennels7/pseuds/purplefennels7
Summary: Aaron’s life will always be divided into two parts, split by only a millisecond: before he shot and after he shot. The difference is a chasm he will never be able to cross. It’s too late by the time he realizes that he will always love Alexander, no matter what.





	

“Ten paces, fire!” 

Aaron brings his gun up, takes careful aim. Hamilton’s gun hangs by his side; he’s not even trying to go for it. Aaron’s hands tighten convulsively on the trigger, and his gaze rises a fraction of an inch, and in the split second before he fires, their eyes meet, and over ten years of repressed memories break their bonds and come spilling to the forefront of Aaron’s mind. His hands tremble and his gun jerks leftwards by a hair, and then, involuntarily, his fingers tighten on the trigger, and time  slows   down.

His eyes are still on Hamilton’s-no, Alexander’s. His Alexander.  _ Not anymore _ , he immediately thinks, as he has for the past four years, but the memories are free now, and there’s no holding them back. 

* * *

Alexander, young, firebrand, twenty-something Alexander, rushing up to him on a busy street in New York, and Aaron’s never seen anyone more beautiful. Aaron can’t deny how his heart skips a beat when Alexander invites him for a drink, or how his eyes linger on Alexander’s laughing face even as he’s swept up in the camaraderie of Laurens, Mulligan, and Lafayette. 

The next few years are filled with envy, watching as Alexander is catapulted to the top in the war, watching him win favor with George Washington, but there’s one moment that Aaron will never forget, just because it ripped him apart. It’s Alexander’s wedding. He remembers the pang of jealousy that worked its way into his heart as he watched Eliza Schuyler make her way down the aisle, the urge to run screaming from the room as they said their vows, the white-hot rage forming in his heart as they kissed. He fled the party as soon as socially acceptable, and spent the rest of the night holed up in his study with a bottle of whiskey and a quill and parchment. He burns his drunken musings the next morning, the moment his hangover fades enough that he can stand, puts his façade back on, and walks back out into the world. 

There’s the end of the war, and then, of course, Alexander has to ask if Aaron wants to be his co-counsel, and of course he says yes, plunging himself into a new kind of hell. He sees Alexander every single day, often working late into the night with him, seeing him go home every day to his wife and son, and feeling that incessant jealousy pounding away within him. It all comes to a head one night when Alexander shows up on his doorstep at 3 in the morning, asking him to defend the Constitution-he almost says yes, just because it’s Alexander asking-and the moment he’s done talking, Aaron yanks him inside, shuts the door and kisses him, bruisingly hard, desperately, ravenously. And somehow, by some stroke of impossible luck, Alexander is kissing back, just as forceful, just as desperate as Aaron himself. Nothing real happens that night, though Aaron is stuck wearing high-collared vests for a week. They don’t talk about it, they just go back to business as usual, but now there’s a tiny little spark of hope in Aaron’s heart, a secret little smirk every time he sees Alexander at work. 

Things happen in a blur after Washington is elected President, up until that one sweltering summer in New York, when Eliza Hamilton takes their children upstate and leaves Alexander, working incessantly as always, behind. Aaron shows up on Alexander’s doorstep the first day they’re gone, and oh, God, just seeing Alexander all disheveled-from lack of sleep and overwork, most likely-just pitches the rest of his self-control out the window. Yes, it’s an affair, but oh, it’s so much more than just an affair, because Aaron’s head-over-heels for Alexander, and, well, Alexander’s getting there. It’s the best year of Aaron’s life. He spends almost every waking moment with Alexander, and he knows it’s so, so risky, but Alexander can get him to do anything-he even spends a few precious nights at Alexander’s rented house. It’s one of those nights, curled up in Alexander’s arms, that Aaron tells Alexander that he loves him. Alexander looks torn between unadulterated joy and trepidation, but he doesn’t bring it up again for nearly a month, when Aaron’s spending the night again and he talks for nearly two hours on what exactly he feels for Aaron. Aaron doesn’t care, he’s always been an expert summarizer, and what he hears makes him want to smile until his mouth hurts, because really, what Alexander is saying is that his heart was never made to love only once, and he loves Aaron and Eliza equally. Aaron’s on cloud nine for the rest of the week. Caught up in the moment, he never imagines that paradise would end. But end it does, in flames and a world of hurt. 

It all starts when Aaron wins the New York Senate seat against Philip Schuyler. Really, it all started when Eliza came back from upstate New York, but even then, Alexander would go to Aaron’s house under pretense of work, even though no work ever got done (except making out on Aaron’s bed). Anyway, Alexander had been furious about Aaron switching parties, and they didn’t speak for over a week. Their relationship was never really the same after that. The fire had gone out somewhere along the line, at least in Alexander’s heart. And then Alexander’s eldest son dies in a duel, and Alexander shuts in on himself. The whole family packs up and moves uptown and Alexander doesn’t even deign to say as much as a goodbye, and Alexander doesn’t come into work anymore, so Aaron never sees him, and he can’t help wondering, if Alexander had really loved him, wouldn’t he have come to him instead? Logically, Aaron understood. But love is always at war with logic, and Aaron can’t help the budding sense of betrayal. And then the Election of 1800 happens, and Alexander makes the ultimate betrayal, endorsing Jefferson instead of Aaron, and that’s when Aaron snaps. He bottles up his feelings, his memories of that year he spent with Alexander, and every time he’d longed for him before then, and encloses them behind mental walls, and vows never to set a thought to them again. He burns every letter Alexander sent to him, and every copy he’d ever made of his own letters. Little does he know that Alexander did the same, after Phillip’s death, he took his own letters and burnt them, trying to move on, to turn a new leaf, even though he knows he’ll always love Aaron and nothing can change that.

Aaron starts writing scathing letters to the man he once loved (still loves, really), and everything heads downhill from there. Before he knows it, he’s writing “Weehawken. Dawn. Guns. Drawn” and Alexander is replying “You’re on” and he’s leaving his house at 4 am on a foggy Thursday morning, pistol in his pocket and pain in his heart. And now here he is, facing that same man across the duelling grounds in New Jersey, still struggling to repress those feelings he hid away years ago. 

Alexander’s mouth is moving, but Aaron can’t hear the words. All he hears is the blood rushing in his ears, as he watches, powerless, as his own bullet shears through the air toward the man he loves. Because he still loves Alexander, no matter what he tries to tell himself. He’ll always love Alexander. A snippet of Alexander’s words filter through the pounding in his ears. “Is this how you’ll remember me?”

Aaron is running before he knows what he’s doing. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. Alexander’s face contorts in pain as the bullet hits him, and Aaron screams, filled with anguish and guilt and every emotion he’s been bottling up for so long. Alexander’s second tries to drag Aaron away, but he shakes him off, collapsing next to Alexander and laying a hand over his wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood. 

“Alexander, I’m so sorry. God, I never meant for this to happen. I shouldn’t have ever pushed you away, now look-” 

“Aaron,” Alexander chokes out. “I know.” He forces a smile through the pain. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“Alexander, how? I’ve done so much, ruined so many, how can you possibly forgive me?”

“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“Alexander,” Aaron forces out between the sobs wracking his frame. “God, I love you. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I never should’ve let myself do this. God, Alexander, what have I done to you?”

“It’s alright, Aaron,” Alexander replies, even though his voice is shuddering and there are tears in his eyes, some because of the pain, and some because his heart is shattering, watching Aaron wilt beneath the weight of his guilt. “I’ll see you on the other side. I love you, Aaron, so much. Always have, always will.”

“Oh, Alexander, how?” Aaron sobs, every mental barrier he’s ever set shattering at the same time. “How can someone like you love someone like me? You’re so, so much better than I could ever be. I don’t deserve you, Alexander.”

“Aaron, look,” Alexander says, voice ragged with pain and grief. “Neither of us are saints. We’ve all done things we’ll always regret. I should’ve never pushed you away, back when Phillip died. I should’ve gone to you, not run away. But, Aaron, what’s done is done. We can’t take it back. What was it you liked to say? We keep loving anyway? Remember that, when I’m gone. We’ll see each other again, Aaron. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Alexander, no, let Pendleton take you back, let the New York doctors save you, Alexander, I can’t lose you again.”

“Oh, Aaron, I’m already gone. There’s no saving me, darling. Just-just stay with me, Aaron. Until the end.” Aaron lets out a strangled sob, gently pulling Alexander’s head into his lap, slipping his glasses off, tears falling unchecked into Alexander’s unruly black hair. They stay there for hours, Aaron stroking Alexander’s hair, holding him as close as he can, talking until his voice is hoarse, talking more than he’s ever talked before, telling him everything he’s neglected to say for the last thirty years. Evening has nearly fallen when Alexander starts drifting in and out of consciousness, starts coughing up blood. The tears are flooding down Aaron’s cheeks as he chokes out how much he loves Alexander, how he doesn’t think he can keep going without Alexander in his life, how sorry he is for everything.

“Kiss me, Aaron,” Alexander pleads. “One last time.” Aaron does, leaning down and pressing his mouth to Alexander’s. The hint of desperation that permeates every kiss they’ve ever had threatens to overwhelm both of them, abandoned by their words in the time they needed them most, trying to convey everything they can’t say through action alone. “I love you, Aaron. I’ll see you on the other side. We’ll meet again, darling. It’s only a matter of time.” He closes his eyes for the last time, Aaron sobbing “I love you, I love you” over and over. Alexander Hamilton slips away peacefully, his last breath as natural as any other, and Aaron screams, a broken, tortured sound ripped from his throat, sobbing incoherently over Alexander’s body.

The only words that anyone can make out are “I will always remember you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to The World Was Wide Enough and this happened.


End file.
